


Out of Shadow

by Whedonista93



Series: An (Un)Expendable Loser [2]
Category: The Expendables (Movies), The Losers (2010)
Genre: BAMF Cougar, Background Relationships, Cougar is a girl, F/M, Who was raised by the Expendables, background characters mentioned - Freeform, hurt! Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7870414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whedonista93/pseuds/Whedonista93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had a point to prove. She could take care of herself, and she was every bit as good as the men who raised her, and she got better when she was no longer in their shadows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is an AU in which the Expendables raised Cougar. And Cougar is a chick. Because a soldier raised by the Expendables? Damn. A female soldier raised by the Expendables... holy hell, watch your back.
> 
> Also, I am playing fast and loose with timelines here.
> 
> Trigger Warnings:  
> -off screen drug abuse  
> -off screen child abuse  
> -implied torture  
> -serious injury
> 
> Translations at the end.

She joined the Army at 17. She never regretted the decision, she never looked back, and her family was proud of her. Her mother was furious, but her mother lost the right to have a say in her life when she left her infant daughter on the stoop of a mercenary’s door and drove off into the night with that week’s man. She wasn’t bitter – her uncle raised her better than her mother ever could have. But, she joined the Army at 17. She had a point to prove. She could take care of herself, she was every bit as good as the men who raised her, and she got better when she was no longer in their shadows.

Basic training would have killed a lesser woman, hell, basic training would have killed a lesser person. But she was a natural at most things, “natural” enough that her drill sergeants raised their eyebrows and one even asked how the fuck she was raised (and that was the moment she began perfecting a single arched brow), and a quick enough study in other areas that her bright, chatty nature and smart mouth got her in less trouble than they could have. They gave her a blade and a gun, and every time she proved she was better than everyone else, they gave her bigger ones. She chose guns because her uncle chose blades, and she wouldn’t stand to be compared. Besides, the Army couldn’t teach her anything with blades that he hadn’t taught her already.

When she watched her first unit get wiped out through her scope from nearly a mile away, a part of her died with them. It took nearly two days for her to realize a rescue wasn’t going to come. Her unit wasn’t supposed to be there anyway; why ruin their cover for one soldier? She could rescue herself, anyway.

Once upon a time, her C.O. and a few key members of her unit were the only ones aware of how silent and deadly she could be when the occasion called -  _ Cougar _ started out as an irony, not that she had any intention of explaining that -  now, if they were alive, they were the only ones besides her family who could tell you that the solemn woman with unerring aim once had one of the sharpest tongues and brashest personalities they had ever encountered.

Nothing else fit, nothing else stuck – soldiers were crass and sexist and didn’t realize she could take care of herself until they woke up in a hospital bed. And then she landed with the Losers.

There were times – times when missions got too hot, times when someone got too close, times when things went FUBAR sideways – those times that she called on training she never should have had, skills that shouldn’t exist – that they looked at her like she was something they didn’t understand, but it saved their lives, so they didn’t ask, and it was a precarious balance, but it worked.

* * *

* * * * *

It was a generally, albeit silently, acknowledged fact that Cougar had tunnel vision when Jake was in trouble. The first time the Losers got a glimpse of what Cougar was  _ really _ capable of was in response to a mission gone wrong and Jake being taken hostage in a time before Clay had completely lost his mind.

_ “They’ve got Jake.” Pooch’s voice sounded strained over the comms. _

_ “Where?” Cougar demanded. _

_ “Basement somewhere. Signal is gettin’ sketchy.” _

_ Cougar cursed silently. _

_ “Fall back. We can’t get him out without a plan.” Clay ordered. _

_ “Negative.” Cougar bit out. _

_ “That is an order, Alvarez! We go in there half-cocked and we all get killed.” Clay growled back. _

_ “Roque, pick up my rifle.” Cougar requested, waiting only long enough for grunted affirmation before ripping out her earpiece and setting her beloved gun aside. _

_ There were nearly two dozen  _ big _ guys with  _ big _ guns between her and Jensen. Clay and Roque followed the trail of their bodies into a sub basement where they found Cougar in a tense standoff with some asshole who had a knife to Jake’s neck. They flanked her carefully. Roque side-eyed the outward calm, but saw the slight panic in her eyes and the tension in her shoulders. _

_ “One step, one wrong twitch and I kill him!” The asshole threatened as he pressed the blade closer to Jensen’s neck. Cougar’s jaw tensed and her fingers twitched. _

_ “Let him go.” Cougar demanded quietly. _

_ The asshole had the nerve to smirk. “Make me.” _

_ “Can I stab him?” Roque asked, glancing at Clay. _

_ The knife pressed into Jensen’s skin with enough pressure to draw blood. _

_ “Guys, just personal preference, ya know, but I kinda prefer my head attached and my throat, er… not slit.” Jensen gulped and leaned back into the asshole, shying away from the blade. _

_ The movement created an opening – a fraction of a second and mere centimeters of extra space – to work with. Roque didn’t even have to consider whether or not he could throw a blade or make a shot without killing Jensen in that briefly allotted window; Cougar’s hand flashed and the asshole’s knife clattered to the ground at the same moment he hit the wall behind him, a look of shock on his face and knife in his throat. _

_ Even Roque flinched a bit at the ruthlessness with which Cougar stalked forward and yanked her blade out of the asshole’s neck with a vicious sideways drag, her eyes never leaving his. It was completely at odds with the gentleness she showed as she turned to Jensen and pressed a handkerchief to his bleeding neck and cautiously helped him to his feet. _

_ Clay finally seemed to register the sheer impossibility of what Cougar had just pulled off – the not even twitching two dozen dead bodies he and Roque had followed to their sniper and tech, the precision that led to those bodies, and the speed with which Cougar had loosed the small dagger now grasped loosely in her hand. _

_ He turned to her, slightly slack-jawed. “How the fuck?” _

_ Cougar just shook her head and walked past him, Jake leaning heavily on her shoulders. _

_ Clay shot a questioning look at Roque, who just shrugged and grinned in response. _

* * * * *

* * *

Crouched outside of a hospital in Springfield as one of her teammates scaled a wall just in time to meet his son coming into the world, Cougar considered,  _ really _ considered for the first time, calling her family, if only so Pooch could actually have a chance to live life with his. It wasn’t the first time she’d had the thought. It crossed her mind in Bolivia. It crossed her mind again in L.A. It wasn’t the first time she’d had the thought – but it was the first time she’d acknowledged it with any intent.

She’d spent her life fighting to get out of their shadows, but now, after so long in the scorching sun, she almost longed for the comfort of the shade. She shook her head and cleared her thoughts. It wasn’t time yet.

* * *

They lay low for a while, let Pooch get to know his son and watched Jensen’s niece play soccer. Then they got a lead on Max and they were off again. They were scouting a warehouse in some bay in Louisiana, and Cougar didn’t like it. It was just a gut feeling, but her uncle always told her to trust her gut, and something was not right.

“No clear line of sight,” she pointed out as they looked over the blueprints.

Clay shrugged. “No people, just computers. You don’t need one.”

Cougar tensed and muttered profanities under her breath in Spanish.

Clay went on without acknowledging her. “We’ll cover the exits while Jensen goes in. It’s an in and out, no problem.”

Jensen grinned brightly. “Easy peasy, Cougs. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

“ _ ¡Idiotas! _ ” She snarled as she stalked away.

Clay had his own version of tunnel vision when it came to Max, and Jensen lived to fucking please. There would be no talking any sense into either of the stubborn bastards.

It all went to hell exactly thirty seconds after Jensen hooked into the warehouses computers. Heavily armed guards poured from every nook and cranny and descended on Jensen and the comms were suddenly filled with every Loser swearing a blue streak.

Cougar repeated last night’s exclamation of “ _ ¡Idiotas! _ ” even as her blood ran cold.

They all waited with baited breath for Clay’s plan.

Cougar heard Jensen over the comms, “Heeey fellas! Uh… this isn’t what it looks like?” followed by a thud and a grunt, and she could only assume someone hit him, and she just got even more pissed off.

The next thing she knew, Pooch was blasting through the glass skylights in the roof and guns were going off and she heard a strangled sound over the comm that she knew was Jensen and Clay was shouting for them to hold even as she unholstered her six shooter and palmed the blade Roque gave her so many years ago. She was already through the door. There were at least a dozen men between her and Jensen. She vaguely registered Aisha’s shout that Max was on the second level, but she was too focused on getting to Jensen. She could see him, on the ground and surrounded by guards. He wasn’t talking. She doubled her speed. With her left hand she shot any goon that took a step too close to Jensen and with her right she slashed at any goon that took a step too close to her.

By the time she reached him, there were piles of bodies strewn around the warehouse, and even the few goons left with guns in reach eyed her warily and stayed their hands. There was a hole slowly gushing blood from somewhere in the vicinity of Jensen’s ribs. She shoved her knife back into its sheath on her thigh and her gun into the holster at the small of her back before she shrugged off her denim over shirt to apply pressure to the wound. His eyes were closed and he was too pale and he was too quiet.

Then Clay was at her shoulder, shouting about Max getting away and they had to go after him and then Pooch was on the comms shouting back that they had to get Jensen to a hospital.

“He’ll be fine! We have to go after Max.” Aisha insisted from behind Clay.

Cougar looked up at the other woman from beneath the brim of her hat. “Hospital.”

“We’ll drop him off the first one we pass.” Aisha suggested as she stepped up right next to Clay, who looked torn.

Cougar took her hands off the wound long enough to punch Aisha square in the mouth before stooping and manhandling Jake’s six-foot-something frame over her shoulders in an awkward fireman’s carry and heading out of the warehouse to Pooch’s waiting van.

They stopped at the first hospital they came to. They broke Jake out of said hospital as soon as the doctor’s stopped the bleeding, did a transfusion, and bandaged him up. Slipping local P.D. was easy enough and there was an unspoken agreement between Cougar and Pooch not to wait around for the feds to take an interest. Neither one said anything about Clay following Aisha instead of his team. Pooch didn’t say a word when Cougar climbed into the driver’s seat – just crawled into the back seat to keep an eye on Jensen.

New Orleans was only a few hours away, and Cougar decided it was finally time to go home.

* * *

Pooch eyed her warily when she pulled to a stop across the street from a tattoo shop in an older part of New Orleans. She killed the engine and cut the lights before she leaned against the partially open window as she stared at the open door of the parlor. She was as tense as Pooch had ever seen her and he thought twice before opening his mouth to speak. Before he could get anything out a man with a big knife and a loud British accent came strolling into the street. He heard the guys speech through his open window and couldn’t help chuckling at the rhyme paired with the dramatic tones and gestures,

“I once knew a man called Tool,

To me, was the epitome of cool.

He was good with a knife,

_ Bad _ with a wife.

But to think he could beat me,

Dreaming he’d defeat me…

Cool Tool,

You gotta be a fool.”

Then he threw the knife and damn, but the chuckle died on Pooch’s lips. Cougar, on the other hand, visibly relaxed. If he didn’t know better, he’d even say she was fighting a grin – fighting a grin at the sight of a psychopath throwing a knife with deadly accuracy; if that didn’t say everything you needed to know about a Loser’s fucked up state of mind, he didn’t know what did. She stepped out of the car and he saw the man tense;  _ Soldier _ , his brain supplied automatically. Pooch tensed, ready to step out of the van at the first sign Cougar was in trouble, but she just stepped in front of the van, into the light of a street lamp and asked, casual as could be, “Aren’t you too old to be playing with knives, Christmas?”

* * *

Cougar smirked, trying to hide her discomfort and nervousness as Christmas’ face went completely slack for a fraction of a second before he snarled back, “Aren’t you too fucking young to be playing dead?” Then he turned back toward the building and the crowd gathering at the door. “Tool!”

* * *

Men started pouring out of the building, most looking a little past their prime, but all still screaming  _ Danger! _ in Pooch’s trained mind. He gave up on waiting for Cougar to signal for help and stepped out of the van to flank Cougar with a gun in each hand. He knew the fact that she brought them here and the fact that her hand hadn’t even twitched toward her own gun were good signs, but he’d be a damn fool to ignore years of training and instincts. Besides, Cougar still looked tense enough to snap, and until he knew why, he’d rather be safe than sorry – Jensen would wake up just to fucking kill him – the contrary prick – if something happened to Cougar because Pooch wasn’t taking every precaution. He wasn’t sure if he felt reassured or more wary when the men barely glanced at him, as if dismissing him as a threat – or possibly approving of his protective stance behind Cougar – it was too dark to really see their faces. At the forefront of the crowd, though, was a man in leather and a cowboy hat and Pooch dropped his guns non-threateningly to his sides, because if that man wasn’t related to Cougar, the Pooch would eat his deployment boots.

* * *

Cougar watched a thousand emotions cross Tool’s face – confusion, anger, hurt, joy, disbelief – before finally settling on relief as he stepped forward and yanked her into hug. She went willingly, buried her face in his shirt for the briefest moment, knocking her hat off her head, the string catching at her throat, before she stepped back.

She met his eyes hesitantly, the question of if she was welcome clear on her face.

He glared at her. “This is home,  _ mi hija _ . Ain’t even a question.”

“ _ Gracias, tio _ .”

* * *

“What happened?” Barney’s voice sounded from the door as she covered Jensen with a blanket.

“Boss made a bad call.” Cougar answered, forcing herself to turn away and not let her hands and gaze linger.

“Where’s he at?”

Cougar shrugged, shoulder tense.

* * *

The silence was heavy, but there was cold beer and good food, so Pooch wasn’t complaining yet. Surprisingly, it was Cougar who broke the silence. She looked over at Pooch to get his attention. He nodded in acknowledgement and she started pointing at the men spread across the room.

To  the big guy with skin made of leather and a warrior’s gleam in his eye, “Barney Ross.” 

To the loud Brit, “Lee Christmas.”

To the shorter white guy, “Toll Road.”

To the massive black guy,  “Hale Caesar.”

The tiny Asian woman, “Yin Yang.”

And to the big blonde Swede, “Gunner.”

Finally, to the leather-clad cowboy, “And Tool, my  _ tio _ .  _ Esta es mi familia _ .”

Pooch felt his eyes grow wider with each name, and suddenly the tattoo on her back clicked into place in his brain. “The Expendables. You were raised by the motherfucking Expendables. That explains so much, so fucking much.”

Cougar smirked at him before waving a hand vaguely in his direction, “Pooch. Upstairs is Jake. My team… what is left of it.”

“Thought Frank Clay led you,” Ross observed casually.

Cougar’s face hardened.

Pooch shrugged uncomfortably. “Colonel doesn’t seem to be sure where he belongs right now.”

Nods of understanding crossed the room.

“Where’s Roque?” Tool asked, too casually. “Haven’t seen that crazy bastard since before you joined up with the Losers.” he chuckled a bit. Pooch started a bit at that; Roque had known Cougar before the Losers? Neither had ever let on…

“Dead.” Cougar answered simply, her tone leaving no question who was responsible for Roque’s current state of not-being.

Tool’s lips tightened into a tense line, but he nodded and didn’t push the subject.

Pooch took the chance to shift a critical eye between the big Swede and Cougar. Finally he just asked, “Gunner what?”

Cougar tensed and the big guy looked confused, but answered, “Jensen.”

Pooch looked wide-eyed at Cougar, the question clear on his face.

Cougar shrugged slightly, “Big, blonde,  _ maldito loco _ … ”

“Does J –”

Cougar shook her head sharply once, understanding dawned on Gunner’s face, followed quickly by horror. Gunner looked to Cougar, “The kid you hauled upstairs…”

Cougar dipped her chin once in acknowledgement. Gunner lapsed into silence, something akin to desperation on his face. Pooch let it drop. By all appearances, not pushing subjects right away was the habit in this crowd, and he wasn’t going to be the one to break that trend.

“So,” Tool started cautiously a few minutes later, “Bolivia?”

Cougar shot a near desperate look at Pooch, so he started talking. One mission gone FUBAR, twenty-five innocent kids, one sociopath, one traitor, one impossible shot that killed the traitor, the sociopath back in the wind… Pooch was exhausted by the end of it.

Tense silence rang through the room.

Finally, Tool nodded. “Come on, kid. I’ll show you to a empty bed.”

* * *

Cougar hadn’t thought twice about directing the guys to put Jensen in her room, and she knew her gaze flicked frequently to the stairs throughout Pooch sharing their story. At the end, everyone hugged her tight, or in Yin’s case, nodded toward her, told her it was good to have her home and, in Christmas’ case told her to “fucking call next time instead of letting us think you were dead. If you had a normal family, I can understand not calling, but come on, you’ve got us.” Then everyone trickled off with promises to be back tomorrow.

In the end, only Tool stood in front of her. “You put the kid in your room.”

She nodded.

“You planning on staying in your room?”

“ _ Si _ .”

“Who is he?”

Cougar’s brows drew together in confusion. “He is my teammate. Our hacker.”

Tool shook his head indulgently. “Who is he to you,  _ mi hija _ ?”

* * *

Cougar closed the door quietly behind her before turning to look at Jensen, still unconscious. She didn’t go for her gun when she realized she wasn’t alone – there weren’t many places she could let her guard down, but this was definitely one of them.

“How long have you known?” Gunner’s voice drifted from the shadows on the other side of the bed.

Cougar just met his gaze steadily.

Gunner stepped into the light and looked at her, as serious as she’d ever seen him. “Since you met him.”

Cougar nodded. “Joined the Losers when I was 21.”

“Six, seven years… and you never told me.”

Cougar shrugged.

“Never told him, either.”

She shook her head.

“Why?”

“He is bitter.”

Gunner nodded. “He has every right to be.”

“I know.”

Gunner looked at her sharply. “I had my reasons. My life…”

“I know.”

“Were you ever going to tell us? Either of us?”

Cougar shrugged.  “On you now.”

“I had my reasons.”

Cougar tilted her chin in acknowledgement.

Gunner nodded and gave Jake one last look before walking from the room and closing the door quietly behind him.

Someone, if she had to hazard a guess, she’d go with Barney, had pulled her old wingback chair right up next to the bed. She sank into it gratefully. Cougar didn’t mind silence. She cherished it, in fact. But in Jensen’s presence, Jensen who talked even in his sleep, the quiet was oppressive. So, she talked.

For three days, she talked. She told him about Yin teaching her four different types of martial arts and how to use her small frame to her advantage. She told him about Tool and Christmas teaching her how to handle blades. She told him about Caesar trying to hook her on heavy weaponry. She told him, vaguely, about Gunner, in his more mentally stable moments, teaching her how to improvise and disarm bombs. She told him about Toll Road playing therapist when she was a teenager who didn’t know how to respond to her crazy family. She told him about Barney teaching her to fly and giving her the six shooter she always carried at the small of her back. She told him about her crazy mother. She told him about her first unit.

She knew Pooch alternated between sitting in the hall outside the door listening to her and interrogating her family, trying to separate fact from fiction in the legend of the Expendables. After three days of nothing but absolute, unnatural, silence from Jensen, she stormed into the hall, effectively passing Jensen-watch onto Pooch, and went looking for something to shoot.

* * *

Tool was not even slightly surprised when Cougar came back with the telltale signs that she went looking for a fight after she finished shooting – bruised knuckles and clothes smelling like booze, but breath clear. She wasn’t much less tightly wound than she was when she left, but he heard her shower, and when he passed her room later, she was slumped over in her chair and sleeping – or as close to sleeping as long as Jensen was still fighting for his life – for the first time since she’d been home.

* * *

Pooch sat in the tattoo parlor silently watching Tool touch up one of Barney’s various pieces and trying to figure out how to broach the subject on his mind.

“Just spit it out, kid.” Tool’s voice drifted across the open space between them.

Pooch jumped.

Tool laughed. “It’s easier to just put it out there, whatever the hell it is.”

Pooch nodded. “Do you ever regret it? Raising Cougar the way you did?”

Tool didn’t take his eyes off Barney’s arm. “You mean raising her to be a killer?”

Pooch flinched, but nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You got kids?”

“A son. Almost four months old now.”

Tool smiled a bit and kept working steadily as he answered. “Most folks in our line of work have delusions of being able to shield their families from the life. But that’s just it – they’re delusions. From the moment we decided to keep her around instead of putting her in the system, it was understood that we’d teach her to take care of herself. The choice to follow in our footsteps was entirely her own, but we are who we are, and we will always have enemies who would use her to get to us, whether she chose this life or not. Either way, a normal life wasn’t a possibility for her, so we made sure she could handle it. No, we don’t regret it.”

Pooch nodded slowly. “Why’d you keep her?”

Tool chuckled a bit. “That was pure selfishness, brother. Fell in love the moment we laid eyes on her.”

Pooch furrowed his brow. “You keep sayin’ we.”

At that, Barney laughed. “Takes a village.”

* * *

* * * * *

_ “If I’d have saved that woman… I might’ve saved what was left of my soul.” Tool confessed brokenly, hanging his head. _

_ “Raising Cougar did that.” Barney answered quietly before walking away. _

_ Tool shook his head, “‘Cause she lived so much longer than that woman,” he bit out bitterly to himself. _

* * * * *

* * *

With the dawning of day four, Cougar’s phone rang. She took one look at the screen and slid it, still ringing, across the floor where it stopped with a thunk in the hall at Pooch’s feet. She heard him hesitate, but in the end, he answered, “You better have a damn good reason for calling, Colonel,” a pause, “Where are we?” His tone was a bit incredulous, and when Cougar caught his eye in the mirror, she shook her head marginally. “No, we ain’t ready to tell you where we’re at.” Cougar could hear the tinny sound of Clay yelling over the phone. “Fuck you, Clay.” Pooch hung up.

Next time, Cougar decided to let one of her uncles answer it. It would give Clay a way to find them, but it would be a damn show to see Clay go toe to toe with any of them.

* * *

Cougar woke up to Barney leaning in the doorway. She quirked an eyebrow in a silent question.

Barney shrugged and gave her a crooked smile. “Long enough to know you still trust being home enough to not wake up the moment someone sets foot in the door.”

Cougar inclined her head in a slight nod of agreement.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he accused gently.

Cougar tensed.

“The kid, your driver, he asked about Gunner when you introduced us.”

Cougar went from tense to absolutely still.

Barney nodded to the pale figure on the bed, “Jacob Jensen. ‘Big, blonde,  _ maldito loco _ ,’ is what you said. Could describe someone in my outfit too.”

Cougar didn’t move.

“They know?”

“Gunner does.”

Barney nodded. “Ain’t gonna pretend to think Gunner was anything but shit for a father, but…”

“ _ Que _ ?” Cougar prompted.

Barney ran a hand tiredly across his face. “There was this one time… he was coming down from a high and just babbling… didn’t make a lick of sense until you brought that kid in here… he goes, ‘I just left to protect them. It wasn’t that I didn’t want them. They’re my babies. They’re just better off without me…’”

Cougar blinked. “Wondered. After I met Jake.  _ Tio _ Gun is fucking nuts, but he is not the type to abandon his  _ familia _ .”

Barney shrugged. “He just thought they were safer.”

Cougar’s face hardened, became unreadable. “Would have been safer here.”

“How many?”

“Older sister, Jess.”

“How bad was it?”

“Jake does not talk about it. I asked Jess, once. Their mother… E _ spero que el mal puta loca se está pudriendo en el infierno _ . ”

“They woulda been better off here,” Barney repeated her sentiment.

“ _ Si _ .” Cougar agreed with a sharp nod.

“When the kid wakes up?”

“You keep your Jensen away from ours ‘til ours is strong enough to kick the old man’s ass.” Pooch’s voice stated firmly from behind Barney.

Cougar nodded in agreement and Barney nodded in acceptance.

Pooch held up Cougar’s phone. “Clay’s callin’ again.”

“ _ Apágalo _ . ” Cougar waved a tired hand.

* * *

A full week passed. Cougar lapsed back into silence and spent her days watching Jensen, moving his arms and legs to prevent bedsores. Jensen’s voice kept up an increasingly perverted running commentary in her head through every sponge bath.

She was sitting, trying to focus on a book instead of his breathing, when he finally opened his mouth.

All he managed was a raspy, “Cougs,” but it was enough for her to start to relax for the first time since that damn warehouse. He still didn’t open his eyes, but his fever broke and he was talking again, and that was more important in Cougar’s book. He wasn’t out of the woods, he wasn’t making any sense, and he wasn’t coherent, but he was mumbling under his breath and Cougar could breathe again.

* * *

“Jake jabberin’ again mean you’re shuttin’ up again?” Pooch asked as he came into the room juggling plates of food and a six pack.

Cougar lifted a shoulder noncommittally. She took her plate of food and half the beer. They ate in silence, aside from Jake’s unconscious jabbering.

“When we used to talk about retiring… you never said anything. I always thought it was ‘cause you were you, not talkin’ is your thing. But there’s more to it than that, ain’t there?”

“Girl might be a Loser, but she was born Expendable.” Christmas’ voice drifted from the hall.

Pooch startled as Christmas walked away chuckling. “Those guys are too damn old to be that damn sneaky.”

Cougar grinned.

Pooch turned back to her. “You were always comin’ back here. This was your life, no matter what. No retirement.”

“ _ Si _ .”

“You ever wish for something else?”

Cougar shook her head. “My choice.”

* * *

The first thing out of Jake’s mouth when he opened his eyes was the same thing that was first out of his mouth when he started talking again. Raspy and low, but clear, “Cougs.”

Cougar jerked fully awake from the doze she had fallen into and leaned over Jensen, hands running frantically over his skin, checking for fever, gently applying pressure to his wound to see how he reacted. He winced.

“ _ Lo siento _ ,” she murmured as she lifted the bandages aside.

“‘s okay. Feel like I got hit by a train.”

“Bullet.”

“Everyone else?”

“Alive.”

“Where’re we?”

“Safe.”

Jensen quirked an eyebrow weakly and squinted up at her.

She grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and gently settled them on his face.

He grinned up at her and rasped, “There’s my second favorite girl.”

She grabbed a bottle of water from where it was sitting next to his glasses and helped him sit up enough to drink.

“Easy,” she chided as he drank greedily.

“You know you’re only second ‘cause of Beth, right? You passed up Jess years ago. But don’t tell her that.”

She pressed a finger to his lips gently.

He slumped back against the pillows and she silently helped him lie back down.

“What happened?” he asked.

“What do you remember?”

“We went for the computers. In that warehouse in Louisiana. But then it wasn’t just computers. There were goons everywhere. There were so many of them, and then there was nothing. But there shouldn’t have been goons. I checked. There were no heat signatures from people. I checked so many times. Where did they come from? There weren’t supposed to be people. You were right. Oh, fuck, Cougar you were right, you said it was a bad gig. I… shit, I’m sorry. We shoulda listened to you. I’m sorry.”

She pressed a finger back to his lips and he quieted. “Learned your lesson?”

“Cougar’s always right?” his lips moved against her finger.

She grinned. “ _ Si _ .”

“How much trouble am I in?”

“How much pain are you in?”

“A lot.”

“Punishment enough.”

“Thanks.”

Cougar nodded.

“How long have I been out?”

Cougar tensed. “Week.”

“Fuck.” Jensen grasped her hand where she let it fall to the bed beside him. “Sorry.”

Cougar shook her head and shrugged, ever so slightly, “Awake. Alive.”

“So it’s okay?”

“No,” she glared, “you almost died.”

“Sorry,” he winced again.

She shrugged. There was nothing for it, so what could she say?

Jensen glanced around the room, empty save for the two of them and clearly not a hotel. “Where is everyone?”

“Pooch is here. Clay and Aisha…” Cougar shrugged.

“Where is here and why aren’t we all together?” he coughed.

Cougar helped him take another sip of water. “Split up.”

“Why?”

For the first time in memory, Cougar wouldn’t meet Jake’s eyes.

“They… Max was there. I remember that…” Jensen was good at sorting things out on his own. “Why aren’t they here? They… they were gonna let me die, weren’t they?” Jensen’s voice broke and he gripped her hand tighter and before Cougar could think about it and stop herself, she climbed up beside him on the bed and let him hug her waist and curl into her side as the realization settled. “No, not Clay, but Aisha… then Clay went with her anyway.”

She stroked his hair gently with the hand he wasn’t still gripping and murmurs to him quietly, “ _ Lo siento. Sigo aquí _ .”

Eventually his shaking stilled, and he was quiet for a bit before, “Don’t know where they are?”

Cougar shook her head.

“Know where we are?” he asked, looking up at her, glasses askew.

She reached down to straighten them with the hand he didn’t still have in a death grip. “New Orleans.”

Jake’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“ _ Con mi familia _ .”

Two hours later, Tool found them still wrapped around each other, both sleeping soundly. He took a moment to notice how dwarfed the blonde giant made his niece look, but that the boy still seemed to have shrunk into Cougar until she was the dominant presence before closed the door quietly and started mentally refining his “hurt her and they’ll never find your body” speech, even though he was sure it was moot point.

* * *

Another two weeks passed. Cougar was sitting in the kitchen with her feet propped on Lee’s lap while Barney puttered around cooking something when a perky brunette practically bounced in. Lee beamed and Barney barely concealed a glare. Cougar lifted an eyebrow in Barney’s direction, but her silent question was answered by Christmas’ greeting of, “Hey babe.” as the woman flounced over to him and leaned over to kiss him. Cougar’s brow rose higher and Barney just shook his head in what Cougar could only describe as barely concealed disgust.

Cougar’s brow arched impossibly higher, disappearing beneath her hat when her feet were dislodged to make room on Lee’s lap for the perky brunette, who finally seemed to take notice of Cougar.

The woman smiled brightly at her, but her voice was tinted with suspicion. “Who’s your friend, boys?”

Lee looked a little uncertainly toward Cougar, who arched both brows at him, face otherwise unreadable.

Barney left his back turned offering no help.

Christmas finally settled on, “Carla.”

The woman scrunched her nose up. “And she is…”

Christmas shrugged uncomfortably and repeated, “Carla.”

Cougar looked pointedly at the woman.

Christmas nodded toward her. “Carls, this is my girl Lacey.”

Up went the brows again. Cougar looked assessingly at Lacey, shot Christmas a look that clearly translated to, “I don’t like her,” and vacated the kitchen.

* * *

“Where’s the fire?” Jensen asked glancing up from his laptop as Cougar stalked into the room, stormy look firmly in place.

“ _ Ello lo hará _ . ”

“Who?”

Pooch chose that moment to waltz in asking, “You met Christmas’ girl?” followed by a muttered, “Damn civvie.”

Cougar just glared.

Jensen started laughing. Cougar would have turned her glare on him if he hadn’t chosen that moment to start wincing and paling at the pain the action caused. She was by his side in a moment, but he waved her off weakly, slowly regaining his breath.

“I’m fine. Sorry. But really. You’re worried about the big, bad mercenary’s little girlfriend breaking his heart. Really?”

Cougar decided to glare at him anyway.

“ _ Ramera _ . 5 ” she bit out decisively.

“Awh, now that’s just hurtful, Cougs… and would mean I could actually get any, so I can deal.” Jensen grinned cheekily and didn’t have the range of movement back yet to duck the swat aimed at the back of his head.

* * *

It was a month after Jensen woke up before Cougar let Gunner show his face at the shop. Jake was mobile, and rebuilding his strength and reflexes, but not back up to 100%. Cougar had determined that if Gunner showed up after Jensen was back at the top of his game, Jensen might kill him before Gunner could explain himself. Pooch agreed.

Gunner showed up, looking as sheepish as she’d ever seen him, when Cougar was running close contact drills with Jake griping at her that he had been shot recently and he deserved a break. Cougar stilled and Jake got the look that said he was going to start crowing about his success until he caught the look on Cougar’s face and slowly turned. Cougar wasn’t sure when she had ever seen him go so still and quiet. Then, in the space of blink, Jake was across the room, and Gunner was on the floor, clutching a bleeding, likely broken, nose.

Gunner nodded approvingly and struggled to sit up, his “Nice swing, kid.” coming out a little garbled.

Jake kicked him back down with a swift foot to the ribs.

Gunner, using sense for once in his life, stayed down. “I, uh… I was hopin’ we could talk. Carla wouldn’t let me come until now.”

Jake spun on Cougar, eyes wide and questioning. “You… you… I… you…he… you...”

Cougar sighed, “ _ Si _ .”

“How long?”

Cougar gave him an almost pitying look.

“Since we met,” he inferred, “Why didn’t you tell me?” the hurt on his face and in his voice broke her heart.

She offered the slightest shrug, “Did not know how.  _ Lo siento _ .”

Indecision warred on his face for a moment before he settled on acceptance. At the very least, he clearly knew Cougar would never do anything to intentionally hurt him. She visibly relaxed.

He turned back to Gunner.

“Why?”

Gunner shrugged, an awkward movement from where he was laying on the floor, “Thought it would keep you and Jess safer. I never thought your mom would be…”

Jake picked up when he trailed off, “Fucking insane? Abusive? Unstable? Never there and drunk or high when she was? Moving us every few months and whoring herself out to support her habits with no thought of food for her kids? Jess started working in a diner when she was fucking twelve years old just to keep us alive!”

It wasn’t anything Cougar didn’t know, but it hurt just the same to see Jake bring it all back to the surface after so many years. She strode over to him and laid a hand lightly on his shoulder to stem the tirade.

Gunner hesitated but eventually answered quietly. “I thought it would be better. I didn’t… I just…”

Jensen glared.

“Hear him out, Jake.” Cougar prompted quietly.

“You’re taking his side?!” Jensen spun, knocking her hand off his shoulder and glared at her incredulously.

“ _ Non, mi amor _ . Your side. Always.” Cougar met his eyes.

Dead silence rang. Jensen’s incredulousness lost the edge of a glare.

Cougar froze with wide-eyed realization at what had just come out of her mouth before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

Jensen turned disbelieving eyes toward Pooch. “Did Cougar just run away?”

* * *

* * * * *

_ “Who is he?” _

_ Cougar’s brows drew together in confusion. “He is my teammate. Our hacker.” _

_ Tool shook his head indulgently, “Who is he to you,  _ mi hija _?” _

_ “ _ Hermano de armas _. _ _ ” Cougar answered without hesitation. _

_ Tool’s lips tilted upward ever so slightly and he quirked an eyebrow at her, “And?” he prompted. _

_ “ _ Mi alma _." _ _  she whispered. _

_ “All that’s good in your world? Reminds you there’s more to life than killin’?” _

_ “ _ Si _.” _

_ “He know that?” _

_ Cougar didn’t move. _

_ Tool shook his head. “Didn’t think so.” _

* * * * *

* * *

“Not that I ain’t happy to have you here,” Tool said from his stool, where he was working on a little butterfly on some tramps shoulder, without looking up, “but I know that look. What’re you runnin’ from?”

Instead of answering, Cougar grabbed the stair railing and silently swung herself up into a shadowy corner of the rafters. Tool looked up then, “Shit. You haven’t hid up there since you were a teenager. This is serious, ain’t it?”

Cougar just glared down at him before pulling her hat over her eyes. Tool elected to ignore her and go about his business until she decided to talk – he wouldn’t get anything out of her before she was ready anyway.

* * *

Hours had passed and Tool was beginning to get just the slightest bit worried that Cougar hadn’t so much as twitched when Jake came trundling in, muttering under his breath. Since the kid had woken up, Tool had started to understand why Cougar had reverted back to her former habit of constant chatter when the kid was under. He was always talking, and for someone who had spent so many years with him, silence in his presence had probably felt suffocating.

Jake looked up and jerked to a stop as he took in his surroundings.

Tool grinned. “Lost, kid?”

Jake looked at him blankly before he shook his head. “No. Sorry. Just… wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“Bad habit in your line of work.”

Jake winced. “That’s what Cougs tells me all the time.” He looked nervous for a second before visibly trying to come off as casual as he asked, “Any chance you’ve seen her?”

Tool quirked an eyebrow.

Jake flinched. “I always wondered where she picked up that particular skill from. She can quirk one eyebrow, one fucking eyebrow, and communicate more than an entire ten minutes of one of Clay’s screaming tirades. ‘You’re an idiot.’ ‘Where the fuck is your gun?’ – sometimes, well, a lot of the time, those two go together – ‘That was FUBAR fast.’ ‘Are you okay?’ ‘I’m going to kill someone.’ ‘What the fuck did you do this t–’”

“Kid!” Tool cut him off chuckling.

“Sorry.”

“What did you do to my niece?”

Jensen froze. It was the stillest Tool had seen him since he woke up.

Tool quirked an eyebrow at him again.

“Nothing!” Jensen swore with raised hands. “I swear! She just… she said something I don’t think she meant to say out loud, probably like, ever. And then she… ran away?” he finished with a half-hearted shrug.

“What’d she say?”

Jake shook his head vehemently. “Uh-uh. No way. Anyone who didn’t hear it straight from her mouth is not hearing it from me. I prefer my  _ cojones _ attached, thank you very much. I just… I need to talk to her. I know she needs time to sort through her own head and she won’t avoid me forever and she needs her space to do that, but… I just… I need to talk to her.” The kid ducked his head down, trying to hide the confused, wistful, almost heartbroken, but still hopeful look on his face and shuffling his feet and Tool had a pretty good guess what Cougar had let slip.

Tool shrugged, his turn to feign casual. “I’ll let her know if I see her.”

“Thanks.” Jake’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he retreated.

Tool waited a few minutes before squinting up into the rafters. “Don’t know why the hell you’re hiding. If you said what I think you said, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. Kid’s damn near as in love with you as you are with him.”

He would go to his grave swearing that he did not flinch at the blade that embedded itself in the wood frame of the mirror behind his head.

* * *

She knew from experience that she could sleep in the rafters, and she had every intention of doing exactly that until Jensen’s voice drifted up through the darkness, a tinge of uncertainty in his tone.

“Cougs, I know you’re up there somewhere. We… we don’t have to talk about it. I just… I’m tired.”

Cougar’s mind immediately flashed to the screaming, flailing nightmares Jake had been having since he came out of his coma, and she silently descended from the rafters. He visibly slumped with relief and offered her a grateful smile, effectively dispelling any awkwardness for the time being.

* * *

Jensen  _ knew _ using the nightmares - even if he didn’t voice that as the actual reason, she would know, Cougar always knew - was an underhanded move and he knew that if Cougar called him on it, he was fucked ‘cause he couldn’t lie to her, but she just dropped down out of the shadows of the rafters like a wraith and gently nudged him toward the stairs when he just kind of slumped where he stood. Ten minutes later, Jensen was sprawled across the bed in what he’d quickly learned was Cougar’s room and Cougar sat in the chair next to the bed with her feet propped on the edge. Jensen knew better than to expect her to sleep when she was so tense.

He’d been asleep less than an hour when the screaming started. It was a heart-wrenching sound that Cougar didn’t think she would ever get used to. Jake flailed in the blankets until they were a tangled mess.

He made a choked sound and Cougar reached out for his arm, “Jensen.”

A wayward limb swung toward her and she blocked it deftly, her eyes never leaving his face. “Jake!” she called louder.

Jensen shot up to a sitting position, eyes wide and panicked. His voice broke when he spoke. “Cougs?”

She knelt next to him on the bed, close enough for him to mostly see her face without his glasses. “I’m here.”

He slumped into her and she held his bulk up the best she could as he breathed raggedly into her shirt. When his breathing finally returned to normal she nudged him up enough to shift her back to the headboard before he leaned back against her. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders as he wrapped his own in a near death grip around her waist.

“Want to talk about it?” Cougar asked quietly.

She felt Jensen shake his head against her stomach and squeezed his shoulders a little tighter. Slowly Jensen’s death grip on her waist eased and his breathing slowed, but the near absolute silence told Cougar all she needed to know about how bad this nightmare had been. He would tell her about it eventually. He always did. It was innate in Jensen to release things by talking about them.

When he did speak, so quiet the question almost wasn’t even there, it wasn’t what Cougar expected. “Were you ever gonna tell me?”

Cougar tensed. She could play dumb - Jake would let her get away with it. But she couldn’t… not with him.

“Can’t see you, Cougs. Gotta use your words.” Jensen mumbled into her shirt.

She fought a smirk despite her tension, but answered as quietly as he had asked. “No.”

“Why not?”

Cougar didn’t answer right away. Her mind provided a series of flashbacks: their first meeting, their first mission, their first mission that went FUBAR, the first time he’d been kidnapped after she joined the team, the first time  _ she’d _ been kidnapped after she joined the team, the first time she thought he was going to die, the last time she thought he was going to die.

Finally, she answered almost silently. “Meant too much.”

* * *

Once again ensconced in the kitchen, this time with her feet in Jake’s lap and Pooch helping Barney at the stove, Cougar’s eyes roved fondly across her family, scowling briefly at Lacey hanging over Christmas’ shoulders. She had tuned out most of the conversation around her, but dragged her attention back to the present when she realized everyone was silently, and amusedly, watching her and Jake, who was glaring at his lap and red up to his ears.

Cougar raised an eyebrow in question.

“It took this idiot how long to realize you were a woman?” Christmas asked incredulously.

Cougar cracked a smile at the memory. It was the first time she had been kidnapped, roughly five months after she’d joined the Losers.

_ Cougar was stuck in a chair, arms and legs all individually cuffed to said chair, in nothing but a dark pair of underwear and a sports bra with a ripped strap, when Jensen literally kicked the door in. It wasn’t a huge accomplishment, the thing was half-rotted off its hinges anyway, but he looked so damn proud of himself that Cougar couldn’t help but attempt to smile at him. She managed something closer to a genuine smile when he shot the creep of a guard that had been posted in the dinky room with her point-blank between the eyes. He finally turned to her, and Cougar watched his face go slack with shock as Roque, Clay, and Pooch appeared behind him. _

_ “Uh, guys… how long has Cougar been a chick?” _

Pooch cackled wildly as he shared the story. He sobered as he finished though, “I ain’t ever seen Jensen destroy anything or anyone with the vengeance he did after we got her back… there was barely even rubble left of that compound. And their money… still don’t know what he did with that.”

“What the hell do you think we’ve all been living off of since we got back to the states? Air?” Jensen muttered, clearly offended. Then louder, “In all fairness, she Cougs has no boobs to speak of.” Cougar dug her heel into his thigh and he winced. “It’s not like I’m complaining! Love ya just the way you are, Cougs. So anyway, between that and her shaved head those first few months. And the hat and the not talking…”

Cougar leaned forward enough to cuff his head fondly.

Her phone decided to ring at that moment, effectively breaking the light atmosphere. She looked down at the screen with a scowl before tossing it at Christmas.

He caught it one-handed and looked down at the screen. “You actually want me to take this?”

Cougar nodded shortly. Everyone, even Jensen – despite his fingers tapping incessantly on Cougar’s leg – fell silent.

Christmas had the decency to answer it on speaker. “Yeah?”

A pause, then, “Think I dialed the wrong number.”

“Nah, Frankie boy, you got the right number.”

Another pause. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Name’s Christmas.” Christmas grinned across the table at Cougar. She controlled the urge to roll her eyes.

Yet another pause. “Lee Christmas?”

“The one and only.”

“Smug bastard,” Barney rumbled quietly.

Christmas flipped him the bird.

“What the fuck are you doing with my snipers phone?” Clay growled.

“Couple notes on that mate. One, doesn’t sound like you deserve her as of late. And two…” Christmas raised an eyebrow at Barney.

Barney obligingly leaned over to speak into the phone, “She was ours long before she was yours, Colonel.”

Christmas hung up.

Jensen clapped his hands together almost gleefully, happy to break the following silence. “So… how long do you think before they show up?”

Barney shrugged. “If they’re still in the country –”

“They are.” Jensen interjected.

“– before tomorrow is over.”

Jensen smirked, a soldier’s dark grin, not one of his usual carefree smiles. “Good. I’ve got a score to settle with Aisha.”

Cougar dug her heel into his thigh and shook her head when he looked at her, said darkly, “No.  _ I _ have a score to settle with her.”

* * *

“What the fuck is she doing?” Barney growled in Pooch’s general direction.

Pooch just shrugged noncommittally. “All that rationality the girl is known for… goes straight out the damn window when Jensen’s in the line of fire.”

Cougar, clearly, had been serious about her score to settle with Aisha. Cougar was the smaller of the two women, but clearly had the upper hand. She had Aisha backed against the brick wall of the shop with her arm across the taller woman’s throat. Clay, for once, was taking the wise route and standing back by the car with his mouth shut.

Pooch crossed his arms over his chest and turned to Clay, “Alright, Colonel, if I were you, I’d think real careful before answering this question.”

Clay’s eyebrows rose.

“Why’d you go with her?”

Clay took a deep breath, dropped his arms to his side, stepped away from the car – purposefully vulnerable. “I knew you would take care of Jensen. Cougar would never let anything happen to Jensen. For one thing, I wasn’t going to let the best lead we’ve had on this bastard in a year just vanish. And for another…” he glanced at Aisha struggling to breathe. “She’s a wild card. We can’t risk setting her loose.”

Pooch raised an eyebrow. “Finally thinking with your top head, sir?”

Clay’s jaw tensed, but he offered a curt nod.

Aisha finally stopped struggling and succumbed to unconsciousness. Cougar stepped back as she slumped to the ground. Jensen chose that moment to come skidding through the door and onto the sidewalk. He let out a low whistle at the scene in front of him. “Looks like I missed all the fun.”

Cougar turned to Clay. “You with us?”

Clay nodded.

Jensen grinned widely at Cougar, “Told you so,” he turned to Clay, “Please tell me you’ve got something we can use on Max.”

Clay’s mouth tightened. “He got away, but Aisha heard him call in a hit on someone called Church.”

“Church?” Barney sounded surprised.

“You know him?” Clay asked.

“I have Company contacts.” Barney hedged.

“Use them.” Cougar said quietly. No one was sure whether it was a request or a demand.

* * *

“Out of the whole team… it was the Jensen kid you shot. Why?” Barney asked casually.

Aisha shrugged as best as she could with her arms tied to a chair.

“No. Uh-uh. This is my house. You don’t get to pull that. Why Jensen?”

Aisha glared, but answered. “Cougar.”

Barney cocked a brow at her.

“Cougar and Jensen were the only ones who could have tracked me in the aftermath. But if Jensen was hurt… that damn loudmouth kid is her weakness… and her strength.” she finished quietly.

* * *

Cougar had her chair leaned on its back two legs, back against the wall, cleaning her fingernails with a knife way too big for the task, as she observed the suited spook from under the brim of her hat. He looked grossly out of place in the old-school tattoo parlor.

“You’d better have a damn good reason for calling me, Ross,” he growled.

“Looking for a Company spook,” Barney shrugged nonchalantly.

“Care to be more specific?”

“Not really,” Christmas half-grinned at him.

“Who’s the mini-Tool?” Drummer nodded toward Cougar.

Cougar slowly dropped her chair back to all four feet. Glanced under her hat brim. Toll and Caesar were casually blocking exits. She could hear Clay, Pooch, and Jensen almost silently descend the stairs behind her as she stood and tilted her hat back enough to reveal her face. She didn’t try to stop the smirk that slid into place when Drummer actually looked surprised.

Drummer turned to Tool, “Care to explain why there are four dead soldiers standing in your shop?”

Cougar answered. “Max.”

“Fuck.” Drummer responded.

* * *

“Your girlfriend ever grow out of her crazy?” Barney’s voice sounded from behind.

Jensen jumped. “How in the hell are all you old guys so damn quiet?”

Barney just smirked a bit.

Jensen shrugged. “Whatever. Define ‘crazy’.”

A quirked eyebrow.

“Okay, look, when we met Aisha… when we first decided to go after Max… we questioned the, uh, wisdom, of starting a war with the CIA… know what she said?”

“What was that?”

“‘They started it.’”

“Hmm…”

“Wanna know what’s scary?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me even if I say no, so by all means…”

“When Cougs says stuff like that… she damn well means it. And if Cougs is fighting a war, the side she’s fighting for will win.”

“You sound really sure of that.”

“She was raised by the fucking Expendables, man… you guys lose a fight?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought.”

* * *

“Are those two fucking?” Jake nodded toward Gunnar and Yin, sparring at the far end of Barney’s hangar.

Cougar barely held back a shudder. “No one wants to know.”

Jensen shrugged. “Fair enough… but it would kinda make sense.”

Cougar raised a brow in question.

“Having a thing for the tiny, strong, silent but deadly type running in the family, I mean… uh, not that  I’m comparing you to passing gas.”

Cougar stilled. Like, completely frozen in place, stilled.

Jensen swallowed thickly before asking quietly, vulnerably, “Did you mean it?”

Cougar tried to form a response.

“I mean… I know we haven’t really talked about it, but I feel like we should. And at the same time I feel like we shouldn’t, but… I need to know. And I know, it’s like one of those scenes in a movie where they’re like, ‘We’ll talk about it after.’ but I don’t wanna risk there not being an after. We’re about to actually go after Max. And maybe not all of us are gonna come back. I’m choosing to believe we will, because we’re fucking awesome, but maybe we won’t. And I can’t not know. I’ve been mooning over you for fucking ever and I just…. I need to know, Cougs. ‘Cause if you meant it –”

Cougar tilted forward and slammed her mouth over his, her hat falling to her back, nipping gently at his lower lip when he didn’t stop trying to talk right away. He quickly got with the program at that point. Kissing Jensen seemed to be an effective method of shutting him up.

When the need for air outweighed the need to have her lips on his, Cougar pulled back, breathing slightly ragged, hand cupped around the back of Jensen’s neck to make him meet her eyes, “ _ Si _ . Meant it.”

* * *

“I have a theory to your theory,” Barney said from behind Jensen.

Jensen didn’t jump, just turned his head slightly, “Which theory? I’ve got lots of those.”

“About why Cougar wins wars.”

That got Jensen’s attention. He turned fully toward Barney.

“We might’ve given her the training, the know-how, but all that is for shit without the motivation to win. You gave her that.”

“You’re saying Cougar is a one-woman army because of me?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> 1 Fucking crazy  
> 2 I hope the crazy evil bitch is rotting in hell.  
> 3 Turn it off.  
> 4 She will break his heart.  
> 5 Harlot  
> 6 Brother in arms.  
> 7 My soul.
> 
> \--------------------------------  
> One of these days, I might actually write the teams going after Max, but I make no promises, because inspiration has not struck.


End file.
